


Whammied (Or, How Waverly Got Her Bangs)

by spoowriterfic



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 18:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoowriterfic/pseuds/spoowriterfic
Summary: A little interlude set between seasons 2 and 3.  Nicole survives yet another supernatural attack. I started with the last paragraph, and worked back from there.





	Whammied (Or, How Waverly Got Her Bangs)

There was no transition from unconscious to conscious. One moment, she was aware of nothing at all. The next, filled suddenly with hours-old adrenaline, she was surging up from whatever it was she was lying on only to freeze when she heard a familiar yelp and felt her forehead bang into something hard.

Something like…a chin.

A chin attached to something that was wearing Waverly’s favorite perfume.

Oops.

Her head was already starting to clear, at least a little bit, but aloud she could only manage a slightly slurred, “…what?”

She collapsed back onto what she now recognized as the downstairs couch at the Homestead from its lumpy cushions, scratchy upholstery, and the lingering scent of whiskey. Waverly’s hands clenched tight on her upper arms until it was clear she would stay reclined on the couch. “Nicole, Nicole, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she whispered breathlessly, fingers dancing here and there over her face, chest, ears, shoulders, lips, hair.

Her thoughts still felt muddled, much like they had the last time she’d had a concussion, but she didn’t think that was what had happened this time. Her head didn’t hurt, for one thing, but she did ache all over, and she felt very drained. At least – and this was small comfort – she wasn’t outside in a ditch in the freezing cold clinging so very hard to the memory of Waverly Earp smiling at her from the front porch of the Homestead that that smile was the first thing that came to mind hours later when Dolls had begun questioning her.

Sometimes, she reflected, she forgot how truly blessed she was now. On the one hand: so much mortal danger. On the other: Waverly Earp.

Wasn’t really even a contest, was it?

The timbre of Waverly’s voice changed. “N-nicole? Baby, I – are – are you – ?”

There was, she found, still a pretty solid disconnect between her brain and her mouth but Waverly’s urgency and worry spurred her to push past that; still, although she had about a thousand questions she wanted to ask, all that came out was, “W-what? Wave?”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Wynonna’s going after the demon that whammied you.”

“I…got whammied?” The last thing she remembered was dinner at the Homestead, then watching…something…on TV with Waverly while Wynonna worked out in the barn, then reluctantly getting ready to go home and feed Calamity Jane, and then…nothing. Just blackness.

Waverly’s fingers began combing through her hair. It was so soothing that she nearly forgot what she was trying to remember when a hazy memory intruded of…something big and dark charging at her as she walked to her car.

Why had she parked it so far away from the Homestead and its protective ammolite?

She couldn’t remember.

She did remember Waverly’s warning yell.

And a futile, too-late gunshot from the direction of the barn.

Pain – heat – pressure…all knocking into her with the force of a tsunami.

A moment of what she might have called agony before she’d felt Widow venom flowing through her veins.

Then nothing.

“Oh. I got whammied.”

“Yeah.”

“And…?” There had to be an and. There always was an and. Earps never gave up.

“And Wynonna is out there trying to kill the demon and get you un-whamimed. And Doc. And Dolls. And Jeremy’s in his lab, and – ”

She knew this was all very important information, but it was all too much to process and she was still so tired. “C-can I…go back to sleep?”

There was a touch of hysterical laughter in Waverly’s voice. “You can do whatever you want. You’re alive. When I saw – I thought – ” She felt Waverly press a brief, hard, desperate kiss to her lips. It tasted salty and she instinctively reached up to dry the tears she knew were there.

“Whatever I want?”

“Anything.” Waverly kissed her again, and this time she wrapped one arm around Waverly’s waist and pulled her close with a faint grunt of protest when she moved to get up.

“Then stay with me. Let Wynonna get the demon. She’s in a fightin’ mood lately anyway. Just…stay.”

She heard Waverly muffle another sob, but a few moments later, Waverly was wrapped around her right side, an ancient, hand-knitted afghan that still smelled of mothballs covering both of them. “I don’t have any bonus blankets.”

“It’s summer.”

“Still.”

Nicole rested her cheek on Waverly’s hair, drinking in the familiar, comforting scent of her shampoo. “I’ll keep you warm.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She woke an indeterminate amount of time later, Waverly still wrapped around her and breathing slowly and deeply. Her head felt clearer, but she still ached all over and she felt shaky, drained. She was content to lie there doing nothing more strenuous than run her fingers through Waverly’s hair until she felt her sigh and stir.

Without really meaning to, and prompted no doubt by feeling the hair she was still toying with, she asked, “Did you ever have bangs?”

“What?”

Nicole shrugged. “I just think you’d look pretty with bangs.” She smiled into Waverly’s good morning kiss. “Not that you’re not beautiful just the way you are.”

“Wynona hasn’t – ?”

“No. Not yet. Unless we both slept through it.”

Silence for a moment as Waverly checked her phone, then she settled back into her spot pressed up against Nicole’s side. “She will. She’ll find a way – I know she will. She cares about you.” She felt Waverly’s chin settle on her shoulder. “She said so when you were dy…um…after you got bitten.”

Nicole didn’t quite know what to do with that. She and Wynonna had a complicated relationship. Wynonna was suspicious of authority on general principles and wasn’t inclined to let pesky things like rules get in the way of what she thought was right, but when they weren’t clashing over revenants or cases, they tended to get along well – and of course they were bound by their love of Waverly. “I think she cares because you care and she would do anything for you, but if that gets her to get the demon, that’s okay with me.”

Waverly’s head landed back on her shoulder. Still sounding sleepy, she hummed, “Agree to disagree. She cares. She just shows it in a Wynonna way.”

There was probably more than a bit of truth to that. Wynonna trusted her with Waverly – and had trusted her to get Alice to safety. That said everything it needed to about how Wynonna really felt. Still: “I like the Waverly way better.”

Waverly’s fingers trailed across her lips. “Me too.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t want Wynonna to do _that_.”

Waverly laughed.

“I love your shampoo.”

Waverly’s chin, on her shoulder again, no doubt in reaction to the non sequitur. “What?”

“It smells nice.”

“I’m partial to vanilla dipped donuts, myself.”

Nicole pulled her close with a wry smile. “You keep saying that’s what I smell like. I don’t get it. You know I use coconut body wash and whatever shampoo is on sale the week I need it.”

Waverly’s hands began to wander. “Well, whatever it is, it’s my favorite.”

“You…are _my_ favorite.”

Another kiss. Salty again. This time Nicole pulled away. “Hey,” she whispered, stroking Waverly’s cheeks with her thumbs. “You are. You’re my favorite. I love you. Just the way you are.” Because her hands were still cupping Waverly’s face, she felt her first tiny, instinctive, negative shake of the head; it was so small, so reflexive, and stifled so quickly, that she wouldn’t have seen it even without the demon – but she _felt_ it. “ _Yes_.”

Waverly sniffled as she pulled away and sat up, suddenly all frantic energy. “I, um, are you hungry? I can make some toast.”

Nicole sat up too, feeling for the first time a touch helpless and frustrated. She wanted to reach out, to pull Waverly back, to break through that wall of self-deception and low self-esteem, but she knotted her hands together in her lap instead. “Yeah, sure.”

She listened as Waverly bustled around the kitchen, alternately aching for her and mad _as hell_ at her parents, at Champ, even at Wynonna – at anyone who had ever made Waverly feel like she wasn’t wanted, wasn’t valuable, wasn’t…amazing just exactly as she was.

She had tried so hard, worked so hard, to be what everybody else wanted her to be – even though who she _was_ was really extraordinary.

She made a private vow to do her best never to do that to her. Never to make her feel less than. Never to abandon her.

_Where you go, I go_.

She had a…not-quite-memory…of saying that, and it felt right. “For as long as you’ll have me,” she whispered, repeating the promise she’d made after Willa had died.

And if she ever somehow got access to a time machine, she fully intended to hunt Ward Earp down and punch him right in the nose.

Or maybe even somewhere more sensitive.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She put it off as long as she could. “Hey, uh, Waves? I…gotta pee.”

Waverly jumped up and released a torrent of nervous energy. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, of course – I mean, it’s been – I – ”

“Waverly.” The babbling stopped. “Just walk with me,” she added into the silence.

“Okay.”

Waverly pulled her to her feet, and a moment later she was desperately glad that she was still there when the world tilted and whirled around her. “Woah.”

Everyone assumed Waverly was fragile. The face she showed to the world – the cheerleader; the sweetest, most popular, well-loved girl in Purgatory – did little to dissuade anyone of that notion. But underneath, right alongside that enormous heart, she was all steely will and determination, and so, so strong.

Nicole blessed that strength as Waverly held her upright until she found her footing. “Sorry.”

“A-are you okay?”

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “Just dizzy. I’m okay now.”

But Waverly kept her arm wrapped tightly around Nicole’s waist as they walked to the bathroom and she couldn’t deny that the support was welcome.

She was feeling well enough, though, to begin wondering about a shower. She wasn’t sure she could stand that long yet, but maybe…. “Waves? Can I have my toothbrush?”

“Oh! Sure. I – it’s upstairs. Are you…?”

“I’m fine.”

As soon as she heard her heading up the stairs, Waverly’s phone began to ring – and it sounded like she’d left it on the bathroom counter.

“Of course.” Nicole grunted, fumbling a bit for it and then trying to picture the lock screen. “Hope I’m not sending this to voicemail,” she muttered. “Hello?”

A pause. “…Haught?”

“Wynonna?”

“Why did you answer – ? Where’s Waverly?”

“Getting me a toothbrush,” she answered honestly, fully expecting a snarky comeback.

She didn’t get one.

She did not get a snarky comeback from _Wynonna Earp_ , who had spent the larger part of the previous week endlessly, delightedly teasing both of them about the “looooooooooooveseat” Waverly had added to her bedroom.

Her heart sank.

“Okay, well, um, I need to talk to her for a minute.”

She didn’t hear Waverly coming – just a sudden, confused, “Here’s the – what…?”

“It’s Wynonna. She wants to talk to you.” She held the phone out and waited for Waverly to trade it for the toothpaste and toothbrush. “Go on. I’m okay.”

By the time she’d finished brushing her teeth and gotten at least to the foot of the stairs, she was pretty sure she’d used up her meager supply of energy and Waverly was plunking the phone down somewhere with probably more force than was strictly necessary.

“Bad news?”

No answer.

“Waves…I can’t – you gotta talk to me.”

Still silence. She could hear Waverly’s strained breathing, and even the house settling and creaking around them.

Then footsteps. Then she smelled Waverly’s perfume, though she still didn’t say anything.

She reached out her hand, palm up, waiting for a long, nervous moment before she felt Waverly grip her hand tightly. That was something at least.

“Waverly, please talk to me. What did Wynonna say?”

Waverly sniffed. “She, um, she talked to Jeremy. The good news is we know what kind of demon it is.”

“There’s bad news too. Don’t tell me there isn’t.”

“Let’s…let’s…can you make it up the stairs?”

She frowned. “You’re trying to change the subject.” Silence. “I can make it. But promise me you’ll tell me what’s going on.”

Waverly’s arm curled around her waist, and she felt a gentle kiss to the cheek. “I promise.” As they started up the stairs together, stopping to rest after every two or three, Waverly said, “It’s…hard to kill. It’s really fast. Jeremy’s trying to make some kind of tranquilizer dart so Doc or Dolls can slow it down…so she can kill it before it whammies her too.”

“Okay. Well, Jeremy’s good at that kind of thing.”

“Yeah. But….”

They sat together on Waverly’s bed.

“But?”

Suddenly Nicole noticed that Waverly had changed clothes while she was in the bathroom; she smelled of clean cotton and fabric softener. “But she has to un-whammy you within forty-eight hours. And it’s already been about thirty-six.”

Nicole was pretty sure she knew the answer to this, but she had to ask. “Or it’s permanent?” Waverly was nodding with enough force that it shook her whole body. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Okay.” Waverly’s skepticism was like a physical force in the room, but she shrugged. “It’s better than a lot of other things we’ve seen demons and revenants do. At least it doesn’t hurt and I’m not getting put into a coma in the hospital.”

She felt Waverly press a kiss to her temple. “Okay.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dawn light through Waverly’s window.

It was almost as good a sight as the woman tucked up against her side.

Almost.

Nicole smiled and nudged Waverly. “Wynonna got him. The demon.”

Waverly shot upright. “You’re un-whammied?”

“I’m un-wham….” She trailed off, suddenly realizing what exactly she was looking at. “Ohhh,” she breathed. “Baby, you look…bangs are….” Waverly blushed a little and looked away. “When did you…?”

“After you fell asleep. I wanted a surprise for you…for after Wynonna got him.”

She reached up and trailed her fingers around and through Waverly’s new bangs, then pulled her close for a kiss. “You did _not_ have to do that for me. I mean it. But you look…beyond beautiful.” Another kiss. “And if I _had_ to get whammied by an eye-dissolving demon, you’re a damn good first sight to wake up to after Wyatt Earp’s great-great-granddaughter killed the demon with her magic six-shooter and un-whammied me.” A beat, then what she’d just said caught up with her. “And that is…totally a sentence I expected to say someday.” Even more than the sound of Waverly’s relieved laughter, she drank in the sight of Waverly’s smiling face with more desperation than she’d expected to feel. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I didn't say earlier in the story what exactly the demon did to Nicole because that's not the point, but that last paragraph is what inspired the whole story, which exploded mostly fully-formed into my head just a couple of weeks ago.
> 
> Given that I started writing this around 303ish, I couldn't help but be influenced by some of the events of season 3 -- mostly in my characterization of Waverly, like her little instinctive bit of doubt when Nicole compliments her, but it also did a lot to clarify Wynonna and Nicole's relationship.
> 
> "Wynonna Earp" is a bit of a departure for me. Usually, for some reason, I find it easiest to write in the voice of the character least like me (which in this case would probably be Wynonna) but Nicole's was pretty easy to capture here.


End file.
